


And I Won't Think About What This Means

by justanotherpunk



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Smut, one sided crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:42:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherpunk/pseuds/justanotherpunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler does <i>not</i> have time for this</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I Won't Think About What This Means

Tyler fell back against his pillow and yawned. The adrenaline he’d been running on for the past few days was starting to wear off and he could feel his post show buzz fade to a heavy desire to sleep. The show, he thought, had been good. Amazing even. The crowd took his energy and threw it right back at him. They danced and sang and screamed like crazy when he and Josh went out on their platforms. Just thinking about the show made his cheeks feel hot and his stomach clench. He got off on the performance. He thought about it almost every night that his hands slid past the elastic of his pajamas. The crowd, the music, and Josh. 

He tried to convince himself that he’s too tired to be turned on, that he just wants to sleep; but he hears Josh’s laugh come from the lounge and the sound goes straight to his dick. Josh is still wide awake, still wired from the show, horsing around at the front of the bus. He could come back at any minute. He could catch Tyler. But, shit, he’s got the image of Josh killing it behind his kit imprinted in his memory and the sound of his name on Josh’s lips ringing in his ears. He’s too worked up now. He won’t be able to sleep until he gets some relief.

Kicking his pajama pants until they’re lying around his ankles, Tyler reaches for the lube he keeps stashed behind his pillow. He’s careful with his movements, trying hard not to think about what this implies. He’s got an exhibitionist streak and a half formed crush on his band mate that’s leaving him confused in a way that could really kill the mood. He hears a heavy thud and Josh cry “Ben you cheating fucker” and imagines the way his lips would form the words. Fumbling with the cap, Tyler groans and presses his mouth against the back of his free hand. (He’s never really been quiet when he touches himself, even after all these months on tour, and he’s going to get caught. He knows it.)

All sense of urgency melts away as soon as his fingers curl around his dick. He keeps one hand over his mouth to muffle the tiny whine that’s trying to escape and listens to the commotion at the front. His movements are sluggish, but steady and his eyes slide close as he rolls his shoulders back just a fraction of an inch; arching into his own touch. 

Normally, this kind of moment is reserved for home or hotel rooms. Somewhere that he has the privacy to relax and take his time. It’s not just about getting off, it’s about feeling good. Except he’s so damn turned on, and so damn tired. He can’t wait for a hotel night but he can’t bring himself to rush either.

So instead he takes his time, moving his hips and hand in time, and replays the night. The image is clear in his head. Josh’s arms stretched over his head, arms and back flexing as he went at his drums like a maniac. His mouth stretched into a grin. His skin slick with sweat. Tyler’s got the movement’s memorized and he finds his hand moving in time with the memory. Upstroke and twist, thumbing the head to the beat of a song he had written, to a rhythm owned by Josh. 

He sinks his teeth into the heel of his palm, trying to quiet the breathy “oh God oh God oh God” slipping past his lips. He hears the sound of footsteps getting closer but he’s so damn close he can’t stand to slow down. Can’t stand to pull his hand away.

"Hey Tyler." It’s Josh. It’s Josh saying his name in just the right way that makes his dick jerk and he’s so close he can’t stand it. 

Mark’s voice comes in reply. “I think he’s already passed out dude. He’s been running on Monster and Little Debbie snacks for the past week.” 

"Oh." Josh clucks his tongue thoughtfully before knocking at the end of the bunks. "Night Ty."

And that, has his back arching off of his bed and his head rolling back, coming hot into his hand and boxers and gasping “Josh oh Josh” as quietly as he could.

Once his heart doesn’t feel like it’s beating out of his chest, and he’s caught his breath, he wipes his sticky hand off and tosses his dirty boxers away. Once his pajama pants are secured around his hips once more, he thinks about what just happened. 

He got off.

Thinking about his best friend.

"I do not have time for this shit." He muttered, forcing himself into a fitful sleep

**Author's Note:**

> honestly i feel a little weird posting something like this? Idk. hope you like it


End file.
